In the Long Run
Copyright© 2024 by The Horse With No Name
Chapter 96: Welcome To The Club
Incest Sex Story: Chapter 96: Welcome To The Club - Mark and Lydia hit a lot of bumps during the cold war and fate eventually brings them to the other side of the globe, but even there the challenges don't end. This is the founding story of my planned "It's always the Germans" universe, which will be created when this story reaches the year 1998.
Caution: This Incest Sex Story contains strong sexual content, including Ma/Fa mt/ft mt/Fa Consensual Romantic Lesbian Heterosexual Fiction Sports Incest Mother Son Light Bond Orgy Anal Sex Double Penetration Exhibitionism First Fisting Massage Oral Sex Pegging Petting Nudism
Regina
I entered the room, not knowing what to expect. Would Mark be soaked in sweat from relentless grilling? Would he be angry and frustrated from intrusive questions, or would he perhaps even be crying, knowing that the talk had not gone the way he had hoped. To my great relief he looked rather relaxed. He smiled at me when I took the seat next to him and he took my hand.
“Mr. Harris, Ms. Marx,” the doctor addressed us. “To say that your family structure is somewhat unorthodox would be putting it mildly. However, after speaking to both Mr. Harris and Jenny herself, I can only conclude that this arrangement is not only not detrimental, but actually supportive of Jenny’s development. I will therefore recommend to the court that Mr. Harris be granted custody to the fullest extent of what the law allows without requiring marriage or formal adoption.”
Mark and I looked at each other and I saw tears in his eyes. We kissed each other.
“Ms. Marx, a suggestion for you,” the doctor continued after giving us a private moment. “In 2001 a law will be passed that will allow registered civil partnerships, which is essentially a marriage without calling it such. It might be a possibility to involve your female partner in Jenny’s life with all the rights of a mother. Mr. Harris’ rights would not be affected by it.”
“You mean, it will be possible for three people to have custody of a child?” Mark asked.
“The social democrats are not looking too good in the polls,” she explained. “So they want to get this through before the 2002 elections. The whole thing is a bit rushed. As a result custody rights of a third party are not rescinded when a child’s mother enters a registered civil partnership. So, yes, you would all have custody of Jenny. How you come to agreements about certain decisions is of course down to the three of you. From what I have seen and heard, this should be no problem though.”
“Thanks, Doctor,” I said with a relived smile.
“Doc, can you give us a rough timeline until when we’ll have a final decision?” Mark asked.
“I can’t tell you an exact date,” she told us. “I will file my final report by next week and it usually takes but a few days. You will definitely have it by Christmas.”
We said our goodbyes, grinning like Cheshire cats. We walked across the road towards the parking lot, holding hands.
“Regina,” Mark said in a husky voice. “You’ve lived in Cottbus long enough. Bring us to a quiet place where I can fuck the raw stuffing out of you in the back of the car.”
Lydia
“Oh my,” I said when Regina and Mark came home. As she always did on the few occasions she actually wore something, Regina ditched her clothes right there in the corridor. It was not hard to see that her nether region had lived through a rather spirited encounter with Mark’s manhood.
“Don’t leave us on tenterhooks,” Meri demanded.
“Jenny gets herself a dad for Christmas,” Mark said and his moist eyes left no doubt that he was very emotional. We heard a shriek from behind and Jenny launched herself at him, but she stopped halfway and pivoted, disappearing into the bathroom. Clad in a bathrobe to cover her nudity she jumped into his arms and they both started to weep together.
I felt how tears ran down my face as well. I could of course not make it all legal, but at least semi-officially I was now a grandma for the second time. Meri gave me a teary smile and we hugged each other.
Normally in the evening I would have had my weekly remote date with Ian, but we had decided to give him a right ol’ eyeful this time with Femke, Nadja and myself running with him.
Tired from the short night and the emotional drain of the day. Mark had retired early. It was his turn to be on Feli-watch. We stood in the door of Jenny’s room and she gave us a happy wink while Mark and Feli were already fast asleep next to her.
Ian
There were always news with that lot. As I found out, Mark would soon officially and legally be Jenny’s stepfather. Well, one could certainly do worse than having a stepdaughter who would one day be an autoracing superstar.
For the moment though I had to concentrate on my job, as I had to deliver the whole crew to Samedan in Switzerland. I had flown that approach for the first time last year and had needed a change of underpants afterwards, but this time things went more smoothly. The better weather certainly helped.
This time we used the Jetstream 31, which was much smaller and more nimble than the Dash-7 we had used last year. All those factors contributed to the fact that my landing was a heck of a lot more smooth than last year’s attempt and I was not in danger of having to collect any overflowing barf bags afterwards.
It looked like Mark had been on a designing spree lately. I knew he had designed a car livery for Matt and a helmet and overall. In fact I remembered that weekend quite vividly, considering I had shagged pretty much all his ladies. His latest exploit was designing barf bags for our airline with pithy slogans on them, like “Don’t worry, we won’t take this personally”, or “You look good, did you barf this morning?”.
Femke
I had so not been looking forward to this race. Fifteen kilometers, and in classic style on top of that, was more up Nadja’ and Lydia’s alley. Thankfully this was the only race here in Davos, Switzerland. We weren’t exactly paupers, but even we found the place to be a tad expensive.
Needless to say, I started to suffer at around kilometer ten. That was my limit as far as I could go with my usual cadence and I wasn’t good at going deliberately slower. The conditions overall were not good and I could tell we had not selected the best wax for the wet snow. In the end I managed the feat to finish 13th – yet again, for the third time this year. No offense to Nadja and Lydia, but their good luck boinks were not nearly as effective as Mark’s.
The race was won by the two usual suspects, the Russian followed by the Norwegian who had both been drilling it in both longer distances and sprints so far. Third place went to a girl from Estonia and then the ‘trio infernale’, three people who never seemed to be far from each other – Lydia in fourth, the Czech lady in fifth and Nadja in sixth. As far as I could tell this was actually the first time this season, none of us had made it to the podium.
The next two races were in Switzerland too, but with an eight-day break between them, which notably included Christmas, we did of course decide to return.
Regina
Meri had of course vetoed it, but I had put my foot down. We would not have Christmas without a goose again. We were all grown up people. Lydia, Femke and Nadja were bloody well able to decide for themselves how much of it they were going to eat or not. Normally I had cooked the Christmas food with Lydia, but this year I had an apprentice for help – Doreen.
The relationship with her religious zealot parents had not exactly improved over the last year, so this year she had decided to give them a wide berth for Christmas instead of camping out in church again. Unfortunately that wasn’t the only change in her life. While Jogi, his parents, Ilka and Mario celebrated Christmas together, she was at our place.
There had been some tension between Jogi and Mario, because Mario’s best friend had accepted a transfer offer to a large west German club, contrary to what they had agreed on in previous years. Not wanting to live in a long-distance relationship, Jogi and Doreen had decided to call off their relationship, amicably yes, but still gone.
She put a brave face to it, but I could tell she wasn’t exactly happy about it, and neither was Mark. He had invested a lot of time into teaching Jogi, and now it turned out it had all been for nothing, On the other hand, we were realistic enough not to hold it against him. It would have been preposterous to expect Jogi to stay if he had an offer that could potentially earn him millions and a call up to the national team in the future. He had already been nominated for Germany’s U17 national team.
So, as it shaped up to be, Christmas would be a bit of a mixed bag this year. There was of course the great joy of Mark having finally been given custody of Jenny – the letter had arrived on the 21st – but also the rather sad development for Doreen. She did seem to take it well though.
“Is it okay if I take my clothes off too?” she asked after checking on the roasting goose in the oven. A waft of hot hair filled the kitchen.
“Am I wearing any?” I asked and Doreen chuckled, taking off her shirt, bra and pants. I noticed that she had not worn any panties.
“But put the apron back on,” I told her. “Trust me, you don’t want splatters of hot fat on your skin.”
We went on about our business and started to peel potatoes.
“Are you and Jogi really good?” I asked her.
“Yes, we will always be friends, but I guess we won’t be seeing much of each other, unless there will one day be a triathlon in Gelsenkirchen.”
“Why didn’t you even try to have a long-distance relationship?” I argued. “Trust me, Nadja would have had no problems to drive you there twice a week. Any excuse to get behind the wheel of a car is good enough for her.”
“Jogi had already drawn a line under our relationship,” she said with a sigh and sat down on a chair. She looked at the distance through the window. “This wasn’t just about his refusal to try certain things. He had to choose between me and his career, and he chose the latter. And I’m not blaming him. I would have to be a pretty selfish bitch if I made him choose me over the chance to be a world class footballer one day. He can’t have both, so he made a choice.”
“Correct,” Mark said and walked into the kitchen. Judging by the splatters of paint on this bare torso and his Bermuda shorts, he had been working on his car design again. He walked over to Doreen and gave her a kiss. “If it makes you feel any better; I’ve talked to Mario. He and Jogi have patched things up between themselves.”
“Thank god,” Doreen said, heaving a sigh of relief. “That hurt me more than the breakup. Mario doesn’t have too many good friends to begin with.”
“He needed some time to get over it,” Mark explained. “He had always envisioned that he and Jogi would help make the home town team big. But he is clever enough to know that you don’t say no when Schalke comes calling. He has Ilka and he would end his career at the drop of a hat if necessary, but Jogi has other ambitions.”
“I know,” Doreen agreed. “That’s why I preferred a breakup as friends, rather than parting in anger.”
“Well, for the time being, you’re in good hands here,” Mark said. “And a girl like you should have no problems catching another fish from the pond.”
Doreen chuckled. “Be careful what you promise. I can be quite demanding.”
Lydia
Ian and Ira had arrived just in time not to miss the feast. With so many things changing – Nadja’s new career, our retirements, at least from the summer disciplines – we had decided we wanted to have as many friends and loved ones around as possible for Christmas and New Years eve. Oh, and we needed help eating that massive bird of course. Meri still didn’t look very happy about our nutritional transgression, but Christmas without a gooso-saurus was not Christmas.
Doreen and Regina had really produced a fantastic meal and we were all tempted to eat more than Meri would approve of, but we had another race coming up in just four days, so Femke, Nadja and I had to exercise some restraint.
Well, Mark, Jenny and Ian had no such restriction, and between them the large bird was reduced to a pile of bones in no time.
“Can someone roll me up the stairs?” Jenny asked with a giggle after she was done eating. “Mom, that was fantastic.”
“Second that,” Ian agreed with her. “I’ll probably have to do extra training the next few weeks, but it was so worth it.”
“Mom, why don’t you do that as a job?” Jenny asked Regina.
“What, becoming a cook?” she asked back.
Jenny nodded. “The bigger teams all have a food truck, a mobile restaurant. When Matt comes over here next year we will travel to races a lot. That way you and mommy Meri can come with us and we would always have the best food in the paddock.”
“Thanks for the vote of confidence, I guess,” Regina said, slightly flustered by the compliment. “But I don’t think such a thing comes cheap.”
“Probably 800.000 including conversion costs,” Mark said, looking up from his phone. “You might think we were just horsing around, but Rhonda and I were doing some actual work while you were away.”
“You were already planning something like that?” Regina asked him.
“Rhonda pitched the idea too,” Mark explained. “Jenny was the first, but they now have several racing drivers on their client list. That’s why they’ve been to several races, NASCAR and CART. It’s quite common that bigger teams share their hospitality with smaller teams for extra revenue. She suggested we factor that into our budget.”
“There’s only one problem,” Jenny said and giggled. “Mom will have to wear clothes for an entire weekend.”
Everybody chuckled.
“As will you, young lady,” Mark countered.
“Under protest, and out of solidarity with mom,” Jenny said and giggled again.
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